68 A TASTE OF MAINE BIRCH. 



stopped a few yards short, and fell dead' with a bullet* 

 hole through his heart. 



When the moose yard in the winter, that is, restrict 

 their wanderings to a well-defined section of the forest 

 or mountain, trampling down the snow and beating 

 paths in all directions, they browse off only the most 

 dainty morsels first ; when they go over the ground a 

 second time they crop a little cleaner ; the third time 

 they sort still closer, till by and by nothing is left. 

 Spruce, hemlock, poplar, the barks of various trees, 

 everything within reach, is cropped close. When the 

 hunter comes upon one of these yards the problem for 

 him to settle is. Where are the moose ? for it is abso- 

 lutely necessary that he keep on the lee side of them. 

 So he considers the lay of the land, the direction of 

 the wind, the time of day, the depth of the snow, ex- 

 amines the spoor, the cropped twigs, and studies every 

 hint and clew like a detective. Uncle Nathan said he 

 could not explain to another how he did it, but he 

 could usually tell in a few minutes in what direction 

 to look for the game. His experience had ripened 

 into a kind of intuition or winged reasoning that was 

 above rules. 



He said that most large game, deer, caribou, moose, 

 bear, when started by the hunter and not much 

 scared, were sure to stop and look back before disap=> 

 pearing from sight : he usually waited for this last 

 and best chance to fire. He told us of a huge bear 

 he had seen one morning while still-hunting foxes in 

 the fields ; the bear saw him, and got iiito the woods 

 before he could get a good shot. In her course some 

 distance up the mountain was a bald, open spot, and 

 he felt sure when she crossed this spot she would 

 pause and look behind her ; and sure enough, like 



